The Echo of Fire
by Red Cloud Phoenix
Summary: I FINISHED! Paris' thoughts after one year in Rome. Has he found redemption? Please read and review!
1. Prologue

TROY-

Title: The Echo of Fire: Voices of the Trojan War

Plot: What happens when your biggest rival is coming to destroy your country? You fight, of course!

Prologue

There are the legends to enchant us for all of our lives. And then, there are the legends that are our lives; something that could almost be reality. That is the story of Troy.

If any man thinks of Troy today, 3200 years after the biggest battle ever known, there are the words Glory, War, Love, and Hero engraved in his mind. But they have failed to think of one other word to explain the war, one other words that can describe every Greek, every Trojan. And that is Ambition.

Achilles, Menelaus, Briseis, Illium, Triopas, Inphigenia, Odysseus, Nestor.

Just to name a few. The names of the heroes and figures of the Trojan War are written in Ambition. Without Ambition, there would be no war. Achilles' power would be gone. We would not even remember his name if it weren't for his brazen fame.

This war lasted 10 years, with not much excitement until the ninth year. There were a lot of events that occurred in between; they are mismatched, but in the end, it all comes together as an echo in the fire of Love- an aspect that triumphed over all in this war. Listen carefully, and you will hear the word Ambition and the voice of Troy in the burning ember.

The story begins…


	2. Fire in the Heart

CHAPTER ONE- A Fire in the Heart

"Look, Hector. What is it?" A young Paris, aged five, glanced at his older brother for the answer. He had discovered fire that morning, but to his little eyes it seemed like magic, the flames turning everything in its path into ash. There had been a fire, an accident of some sort created by the troublemakers of Troy. Men were now hard at work throwing buckets of water, calming the fire and eventually putting it out.

Hector grinned sheepishly; was it right to teach his brother these things? He was so young, yet he had an incredible love of fire.

"You see, little brother, it is fire," he replied, while Paris looked on in amazement. The scarlet flames were completely gone now, the flames that left behind traces of ash, its forbidden beauty hurtful and burning to the touch, the weapon of man.

"Come on, Paris. Let's go home." Hector turned to go. Little did he know that Paris had his own ember building up inside of him starting from that very day. It would soon lead to something more than a simple interest, but a deep, unimaginable passion.


	3. One for Sparta, Two for Troy

CHAPTER TWO- For Sparta!

Two dreams, one fate. They never knew that they had the power to destroy. They were simply mortals, after all. Or so they thought. What if Achilles chose to live a short, glorious life giving up war? What if Paris figured out his dream early on? Would his decisions have been different? Everything could have been different, if only they had the will to fight their weaknesses…

ACHILLES

Dear Diary,

I awoke to the sound of my mother's voice still ringing in my ears, flowing and rich and warm. _If you leave for Troy, you will not return… Your fate lies with your doom, and so is your glory. You were born to be this way, Achilles. I knew. And now you have to know. _

Could it be? My mother visiting me in my dreams? For days I prayed for her counsel, and she has come.

_When Zeus found out that our potential child would be greater than he, he made Peleus my groom. You are half god and half mortal, the greatest among men. You are not fully a god. On the earth you shall stay, your powers from the heavens…_

Ah, yes, my mother rambling on and on about my greatness. I've had enough already. They need me to fight in this war and I have accepted. What was I to do, rejecting an invitation of sport like that? They need me. It would be disrespectful for a man like me, Achilles, to not agree to such humble offers.

One thousand ships. I am sailing on one of them. Each ship is full of soldiers of Greek tribes all over the country, including my Myrmidons.

That'll be enough to win. We will win. I can feel it. I haven't lost a battle before, ever. I am not letting a silly curse get in the way of my victories. Hear me, mother.

"What are you pondering, Achilles?" Odysseus was suddenly there, watching me think.

"Nothing. I had a dream last night. It was nothing."

"It doesn't seem like nothing, my friend. Go on, spit it out; there's no harm in seeking counsel when you need it."

Alas, Odysseus has read my mind.

"Am I doing the right thing, coming with you to Troy?"  
"It was your decision and you know it."

"Are we there yet?"  
"Patience, Achilles; patience. Perhaps this war will tame you a bit, I hope."

PARIS

Dear Diary,

They tell me that I am to keep away from fire as much as I can. It isn't normal for a young man to be feeling this way. I obsess over fire too much. It is pitiful, yet true.

Hector invites me on a journey to Sparta to bolster my spirits. Good brother is he who always knows how to make his little brother feel better. Good brother is he who loves the younger one. It was Hector who always got the love, I who always got the blame. Hector was perfect; I, the mere Paris who couldn't resist fire and who was incapable of weaponry. Hector has been happy to teach me, but it is hopeless.

Today we leave for Sparta. I am so excited! Perhaps the trip will make me forget the dream. I will tell Hector soon.

My dream was horrible. I woke up sweating like a pig. I saw fire burning. A baby being left on a mountain cliff, probably to die. The baby was rescued by a bear, and the baby was taken by a herdsman who raised him.

What does this mean? It haunts me, biting and gnawing at my mind. Damn the fire, damn it!


	4. Love At First Sight

Chapter Three- Love at First Sight

Paris' P.O.V.

In Sparta we feasted, with King Menelaus and Queen Helen. Our father, Priam, has worked well to uphold peace between Troy and, not only Sparta, but all of Greece as well. He was always a peaceful man, disliking unrest; honorable King Priam, who loved Troy and who would do anything and everything for his country. Even enemies couldn't help but admire our father.

So the feast was a kind of celebration dinner for continuing the peace treaty. It was a merry little party, with wine and dancing and music and roasted lamb. We drank for the good of our future, all of the three days that we had spent in Sparta.

"Let us keep the wolves in the forests and the women in our beds," exclaimed Menelaus. With this, the Spartans laughed. I, on the other hand, didn't even smirk at the remark. Hector nudged me and pretended to be amused. "Smile, brother. We must pretend to be as jolly as possible," he whispered, and I nodded.

How strange the Spartans were. They spoke in a terse manner, their words laconic to drive the Trojans itching for more words. That was all Menelaus said the whole evening. That is when my eyes met Helen's gaze.

She was much younger than I had expected; twenty at the oldest. She smiled politely, and I smiled back. She had said nothing the whole evening save for the greetings with her husband. I reminded myself that her name was Helen, a name just suitable for a woman like her. Her hair was blonde and flowing, her eyes a pale, summer blue. Her skin was pure white, her nose long and sharp, and her lips pink and too small for her face. All in all, I decided that she had a perfect complexion, perfection beyond words could ever describe.

I looked at her with innocent curiosity. Questions swirled in my mind like busy bees. How many suitors had asked for her hand in marriage? How difficult it must have been to pick Menelaus? Why Menelaus? What was it about Menelaus that set him apart from all the others? Was it her beauty that had forced her parents to possibly force her into an early marriage? How horrible must it be, to be confined at such a young age! She was an active sparrow trapped inside a cage with no means of escape. I felt sympathy for her above all else.

Then, when my eyes turned extremely inquisitive without my consent, her once white cheeks turned pink. She seemed to be flattered, and I looked away in embarrassment. What was I doing, anyway, paying more attention to the King's wife than the purpose of this dinner?

Yet, I couldn't deny the truth, which rang in my ears like temple bells. I was falling for the King's wife, Helen of Sparta.

No, I couldn't!

Hector would never forgive me. He will hate me forever if I fall in love with Helen. What to do?

Three nights. It had been no longer than three nights. Yet in my heart, I knew. I knew that there was a yearning for her, a desperate feeling. Yes, Aphrodite had sent Eros to do some dirty work. A dose of the love potion was in my veins. It was love at first sight.

I knew Helen felt the same way about me. The way she talked smoothly while I was in her presence. It was all obvious. We admired each other, but was it enough to risk getting killed by Menelaus? Was it worth the future of Troy and Sparta? The outcome of our affair would come to bitter ends. Perhaps the Spartans would come searching for me. Even worse, they would kill me… It was against the law for a guest to take his host's wife. It was immoral, against all traditional beliefs.

Helen got up and glided as gracefully as a swan to the back door. It had been the same way for four straight nights now- she would give the signal, and I were to follow. That was always the plan.

I checked to see that the coast was clear. Not one soul was to see us having secret meetings. It wouldn't be safe. No one was where Helen stood now outside, waiting for me.

I breathed a sigh of relief. I picked up my pace, eager to get to Helen, my love.

Outside, the air was dank with the summer heat. The sky was alight with fireflies.

"We shouldn't be here," she said, more afraid than ever.

"That's what you said last night," I said, whining like a willful child.

"Last night was a mistake," she said with finality. She sounded as if she was dismissing me. No, Helen. Let me stay.

"And the night before?" I asked, wanting a good answer. Certainly she wouldn't have kissed me by mistake. All the brief times we met each other were not mistaken.

"I made a lot of mistakes this week." Helen kept her composure but looked scared just the same.

I went over and touched her smooth skin. Helen opened her soul to me, and she swayed a little. I touched the nape of her neck and her gaze met mine. She enveloped me in her arms and kissed me. A kiss more passionate, more intense than the previous night's had been, desperate and longing. The shadows hid us away from the farewell party, and that's when it struck us. Our last night together.

Quickly I took out the necklace I had saved for her. "Shells from the sea," I told her. "It's yours. Farewell present."

We were far from the palace now, in the woods. We could still see the palace lights from here. Here we were, naked in the dark of night.

"Menelaus will kill us if he knew," she said. "We were lucky every time, Paris."

"I will fight him. I will fight to protect you."

"I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid of tomorrow, watching you sail away never to come back again." Helen had tears in her eyes, and I looked on and shared her sadness.

"You don't have to be afraid of tomorrow. Come with me!" My idea was rash, but I loved her too much to not see her again.

"If you come, we will never be safe. Men will hunt us. The gods will curse us. But I will love you. Until the day they burn my body, I will love you." Those words were true.


	5. The Horrific Discovery

TROY

The Horrific Discovery

Menelaus

I rolled over on our bed and frowned, puzzled. I struggled to keep my composure. I rolled over to kiss Helen good morning, and in my hands there was an insubstantial block of air and a pillow.

She was gone.

Where was my swan? She probably was at the spinning wheel weaving for my clothes. I got up and called her name.

"Helen? Helen, dear?"

That's when it got to me that she wasn't anywhere nearby. The mistresses must know. I got up and slammed the door open.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

The lady was very afraid, and she was reluctant in her answer. She sputtered and spat without any words.

"Tell me now," I hissed, "or else."

That's when the courtiers walked in.

"She is gone, my lord. She has left with the Trojans."

"How can that be!" I couldn't understand.

"This fisherman here claims that he has seen them leave this morning on their ship."

"They took Helen!" I shouted dumbly, rage boiling in my temples.

"Yes, I'm afraid, my lord. What should we do?"

"Call for my brother, Agamemnon. You know it's against the law to kidnap the host's wife. This is an act of trickery. Can you believe it, all of Priam's years working for the peace treaty gone to waste! Don't waste time now, go quickly!"

"Yes, my lord."

In my brother's palace, he embraced me tightly.

"I want her back," I said.

"Tis a tragedy, brother. Those damn Trojans have tricked you. Of course, she's a beautiful girl."

"I want her back so that I can kill her with my own hands."

That I meant.


	6. The Beginning of War

Chapter Four- Achilles and Odysseus

Tagline: What if an unlikely hero changed EVERYTHING in the course of the war? What would have been different? (Disguises) Apollo comes in disguise but really tries to destroy the one thing that is keeping Greece in glory…

He was known everywhere for his wit. His thick beard revealed only the years of wisdom behind him. He was King of Ithaca. His name was Odysseus.

He came on the shoreline of the island, tall and gallant and strong in search of a friend. Only he knew his friend's secrets, and he was sent on this special mission to find him, hiding like an alley cat on a small island.

In his hands he held a glamorous sword, freshly made. It was an item surely his friend would cherish; Odysseus knew this more than any other. It was his trick behind his sleeve. It was the trick to finding his friend, to lure him into war mode again.

Odysseus also carried with him a wooden chest between his two deft hands which attracted the maidens who squealed delightedly over his wares.

Among the maidens, one reached for the sword. She swished the air with it, experimented with it. She outlined the design on the sword with admiration. This girl was different. She barely said a word. She never talked. She was quiet. Odysseus' corners of his mouth twisted. So his plan had worked.

"Achilles! Get rid of that ridiculous disguise and look up at your old friend!" Achilles grinned, sending the girls into more giggles. The man tore off his costume immediately. His hair had grown a considerable length, but it was still the same Achilles- glittering blond hair and crystal blue eyes.

"Thank you, ladies. It was my pleasure to stay here with you under your hospitality. I am Achilles, son of Peleus and Thetis, in disguise under order of my mother."

With that, Achilles went to Odysseus' side to greet him. They embraced.

"What are you doing here, friend? I was not expecting you."

"I am here on business. You can either stay here with them and be a good boy to your mother, or you can fight a war with me. I am thinking that you would choose the latter?"

"A war? What war? When did it begin?"

"Come, Achilles. I will explain on the way. As of now, Agamemnon has called a meeting at Aulis. The journey will be long- and I shall tell the tale of how this war started. And I suppose you would know that this war all has to do with none other than _you_."

"I do not know of such things. You've got a lot of explaining to do, man, for I have never partaken in any of the Greeks' affairs, nor have I helped any. I have stayed neutral."

"Ah, but that is not the case. You are the best warrior ever born, Achilles- more powerful than any mortal alive. You are needed in this war, Achilles. It was during your parents' wedding that Eris caused chaos, and, therefore sending Father Zeus to ask a mortal to use his judgement. You are the fruit of war, my friend. Consider yourself blessed. You are about to be part of the greatest war in all of Time."


	7. Apollo's Plans

Chapter Seven

Apollo, the god of the sun, music, and prophecy is furious about this war. To save Troy, he must risk everything, and do everything in his power- even if it means reconciling with the love that he lost.

_Apollo sat silently in rage. A heat that burned his body boiled his blood. It boiled inside him like a sandstorm; never stopping, only getting tumultuous in his fury. His lips curled. In his mind, the inevitable image of the future loomed before him. The truth had never come so close before. A devastating song hummed hauntingly in his ears as if the sun was blocked from the Earth and the world was coming to an end. _

Troy, my beautiful city, was under siege by the Greeks. How _dare_ they? Troy was not something to trample on. Troy was the glory that was too blinding for their eyes. Troy, the mother land full of holiness and beauty. Trojans love me, and I certainly without a doubt love Troy in return. Troy is my child, a city created with my own energy and power. I could not stand it. The war gave me pains and weaknesses.

I had to do something.

I didn't waste another second. I was thinking in part anger, but there was still sanity within my mind, enough for me to act calmly. I made a plan in a flash. The plan was too risky, yes; but it certainly would be worth trying. There was nothing else I could think of. And it had a good chance of working. I sought to confess my regrets to Cassandra and, above all, inform Paris of the secrets from his past, and the truth as well.

I had slight butterflies nestling in the pit of his stomach as I flew down from Olympus. I was going to the Palace of Troy to see Cassandra. I got sick every time he thought of her. The ill curse, her beautiful face. It just did not go together. And I was here to change all that.

I arrived with the wind, invisible, but with the eyes of an owl. I gazed at Cassandra in her room as she slept. I appeared before her bed, veiled by the magic of invisibility. I stood over her like a guardian angel. I wanted to be her guardian angel.

I caressed her brow once and she opened her eyes. Some of my madness cooled down. Cassandra barely bolted from her bed. She very well knew who was looking at her. She gulped and turned to face me.

"Apollo, God of the sun, music, and prophecy, why have you come?" Cassandra said.

"Shh, darling, it's alright." I assured her, comforted her. I held her between my two arms. I felt her relax.

"What do you want with me? The last time you came to me you cursed me and got your wish. What is it this time?" Cassandra asked bitterly.

"I know, darling. It is for my actions that I have visited you. Do you know that I am deeply, truly regretting what I have done? Oh, Cassandra, I do not know why I did it! Love tends to drive you mad, you know, don't you?"

When Cassandra didn't respond right away, I repeated, with more tenderness:

"Don't you?"

Cassandra nodded. I was relieved that she understood me. "But what you did to me was not out of love. It was out of anger. Loving someone does not mean that you can chain them. You know of the horrors I see in my dreams each day. We have something alike, you and I- we can see the future. But because of you, others think I am insane." At this, Cassandra almost wept out loud, but kept her sorrow within herself.

I remembered my reason for coming here.

"I do not ask for forgiveness. But I have come here searching for aid. I ask you to help me, Cassandra, to win this war."

"What are you talking about? It has been foreseen… the war is already lost… it is all but a matter of time before the Greeks destroy us."

"Ah, dear, that does not mean that anything cannot be changed. My plan is simple. I will lift your curse. After that, everyone will start to believe your predictions of the future. Then they will listen to you, obey your orders. Imagine the power you will have over them; over Troy. That, my love, is the first step to winning this war. This war was nothing but a mistake. If actions are taken, we can save hundreds of thousands. Maybe more."

Cassandra nodded. "I do not see why you are doing this, Apollo. I thought you hated me."

"My beloved, helping me goes hand in hand with lifting your curse and freeing you. To save Troy, I must save you first. And if I love Troy, I cannot possibly hate you- for you are one of Troy's most treasured jewels. I have had a change of heart. But, my love, I ask you one thing in return of your freedom from this prison. One kiss. That is all I ask."

"Promise that the Trojans will be well protected under your guard."

"Granted. You can trust me."  
Cassandra gave me a light kiss on the lips, and for a while I was in a trance; intoxicated by her.

"Thank you. Prophecy is all I have to give. That was my gift to you. I wanted you to be gifted. But what I didn't realize was that you already were gifted."

Cassandra said, "For you to love me truly, I do not need anything more than yourself. That is gift enough for me."

"I cannot. I cannot show myself. But know this, Cassandra. If you should ever take another man as your husband, at least remember that I shall always carry a special place in my heart for you."  
"Now I will see your brother, Paris. Please do not hate him. He has been hated enough. You must remember that it was not his fault that he is a pyromaniac. He was born that way."

"And what of Paris' fate?"

"That, Cassandra, you shall see soon enough."

I went to Paris' room. Like all of Troy's sons he was strong, hearty, but he lacked one thing:

Courage.

Yet I didn't lose faith in him. I would help Paris.

"Wake up, Paris."

There was movement in the bed followed by a groan. The boy had been fast asleep.

"Who are you?" Came a sleepy voice.

"It is I, Apollo, God of Troy."

"Apollo?" Paris replied shakily. "Please tell me why you have come. If I have committed any sin that has made you unhappy, I will do whatever you ask to purify myself."

"No, no, boy. I have come on business. Thank you for your loyalty. It is not often that I come across Trojans like you."

"What business?"

"Tell me, Paris, do you know what happened in your past? Everything that happened in your past?"

"No, I'm afraid not, Apollo. My family prefers to keep it a secret. They say it'll hurt me so much that it's better for me not to know."

"They are mistaken. The truth should never be hidden from you. I have come to tell you the secrets of your past. Come, ask me anything."

Paris pondered for a while. At last, he said, "I've been hearing that when I was little, my parents dropped me at the side of a cliff to die. But someone found me, surviving on a bear's milk for four days. Is it…true?"

Paris sounded scared.

"It is, Paris. You see, there was prophecy that I knew before your birth- that you will bring destruction to Troy. You are a pyromaniac. You live on fire. With that passion, you will destroy Troy. That passion is Helen. Do you understand?"

"Our love?"

"Exactly. You have the strongest love for her- a love stronger than most of mortals have lived to experience, a beautiful love that will be recorded in poetry thousands of years after you die. But your passion will be lethal if you do not control it."

"I love Helen. I cannot live without her…"

"I know, Paris. Sometimes, though, a man must choose between love and honor. Your desires, or the welfare of your country. You must choose, Paris. You cannot have both love and honor at the same time… it is your choice. Do not despair. I will help you."

"How, Apollo?"

"You will find the courage to do so."

Paris cried then. He cried because of his parents- their promise that they would love him forever seemed like lies to him now, and he cried for Helen. He cried because he vowed to protect her, and now…

He would have to choose between his country or love.

It wasn't an easy task. But he needed all the strength he could get, for the single combat between him and Menelaus was scheduled to be tomorrow morning.

"Be brave, Prince of Troy. Find yourself, and you will help Troy. Remember, I am always right by your side if you need me."

"Yes, Apollo." He said between sobs.

And I flew away, back to Olympus. I was anticipating tomorrow. It would be very amusing.


	8. The Turning Point

Chapter Eight

In history there are a few unexpected, unsung heroes that were never recorded, until now.

My name is Argonus. When my mother left, my father said that it was my duty to serve Troy and to have a purpose in life. He was without a doubt saddened by his wife leaving the family, what with two children to look after on his own, it would be hard for him.

I was sixteen then.

Now I am seventeen. The war has begun. I know in my heart that I am not a little child anymore. I have a thirteen year old sister who can still enjoy the freedoms of youth. But I had to serve the family and Troy by joining the army. Sometimes I blame my mother for my troubles. Really, no one is left to blame for this war. What is there, in pure clarity, is one's purpose. When I left home months ago, my father told me: "If you take nothing else to the battlefield, take your beliefs with you. It'll be stronger than any weapon."

His words inspired me to fight hard everyday. I recall the last tearful goodbye between us. He gave me his sword- his one prized possession. We weren't exactly peasants, but we weren't rich, either; we must farm and survive on sheepherding. Sheep is the way we go about our lives. The moment father's sword reached my fingertips I treated it like a piece of delicate glass. The handle had a dragon's head on it, and designs were engraved on the blade. _This belongs to the bravest Trojan mortal, _it said on the blade.

"By the time you come back, it'll be so stained with blood that it shall never wash off." I smiled sadly. "Thank you, father, for your sword. I shall use it well."

With one last flick of my wrist I said goodbye to Mount Ida. My sister actually wept. She fought to hide her tears, but a big brother sees everything- the good moods and the sad moods of his sister.

"Come, Chloe, say goodbye," I begged.

"No. What if you die? Why do you have to go? I miss Mother more than you, you know that. Why do you have to leave us? I told you not to join the military. You don't have to be a soldier for glory and all that other men's stuff. You have a home, don't you? Isn't that enough?"

"Now, now, you know I'll come back. Who knows, even in a few months. Don't say I don't miss Mother. We all do. I'm going because that's what men are supposed to do. Protect our family."

"I can protect myself better than any man can."

"Oh, I know you can. But that is our role."

Chloe started to cry. "Stupid roles. They just have to be wicked and they have to take away brothers, cousins, husbands, fathers…It's not fair…"

I patted her on the back, hugged her. "I know it's not. You're going to miss me? Seriously? All this time you were complaining that you didn't like having a brother."

"I lied."

"Oh, now did you?"

"What do you think?"  
Poor Chloe.

"Goodbye, Chloe. I promise I'll come back. If I do not, which I doubt, remember that I chose to do this. Please, Chloe."

"Goodbye, Argonus."

Mount Ida became smaller and smaller as I walked away.

Our armies advanced to the Hellespont River. By mid-afternoon the hot sun burned our bodies. We waited until we heard the charging sound of the Greeks. Their war cries sounded like animals in outrage. All of them marched toward the Trojan lines like specks of dust. The specks became larger, and I was able to make out human heads getting bigger with every second that passed. Adrenaline started to pump inside me.

Ten seconds… Our archers shot the first daredevils that ran towards us. It only prompted them to come quicker. I whispered a brief prayer to Apollo before running to do my duty. Was that the legendary Agamemnon and Odysseus, leading them? Or Menelaus? Menelaus was the one with _red_ hair, that's right…

Five seconds. With my gut instinct, I launched my arrow in the air. I closed my eyes and begged for it to pierce a heart.

I squeezed my eyes shut, then opened them again. Oh, it did! It went right through Menelaus' heart.

Menelaus?

Damn.

Menelaus, I remembered, was the brother of Agamemnon. Burly and red-haired, I didn't expect him to be that bulky.

It all happened so quickly. I took Menelaus' life. I killed a human being. I watched in horror as he shriveled up in pain, in weakness, and finally death. What haunted me the most was his last words that only I might have heard: _Helen, may you burn with the Trojans in the Underworld when this war is over!_ Mercy, O Gods! Have mercy on me, an inferior mortal to your superior being. I know you have gifted me with your godly powers for me to tackle such a feat…

The Greeks beat their chests like gorillas, ready for more. Menelaus' life was one among thousands. It didn't matter to them. It didn't matter that the King of Sparta was dead! Agamemnon roared like a lion at the loss of his brother and the thought of losing. They fought, but we fought harder, and we gained more strength as more soldiers fell dead on the battlefield. The Greeks kept losing their ground.

We Trojans fought bravely that day. We didn't lose many men. On the contrary, it might have been a record for surviving soldiers. The Greeks lost many, however. Finally, as an honorable man should, they capitulated. We had won the Battle of Hellespont.  
The Trojans gave a mightier cheer than the Greeks. I, in the mist of the dead, rotting bodies, knelt down to thank Apollo. I was reminded of his duty in our victory when the Greeks had come to drag away the dead and to set up the funeral pyres.

I thanked Apollo. Perhaps I would get home sooner than I had thought.


	9. Anything and Everything

Chapter Nine

Note: I am not sure on the spelling of Skyan Gates, the gates of Troy. Is it Skyan or Skiian? Anyone who knows please tell me!

The Trojans are expecting a fast victory. Apollo is celebrating with Cassandra because she made her first believable prediction. Everything seems to be going well. But the power of a power-hungry king might outlast every effort that was meant to accomplish a goal of victory. Meanwhile, the mighty Achilles, having lost all faith in winning the war, has finally found love instead- with one of the priestesses of Troy. He is so desperately in love that the Fates give him a rare opportunity to reverse the prophecy, and by his mother's will, give him his last chance at glory. But can the mighty warrior choose between love and fate, before all hope of his comeback is lost?

**Cassandra**

Lord Apollo had said that people would pay attention to my predictions of the future. He said no lies. When I told my father my the words of Apollo- that our city was ill-fated as it was beautiful, my father _listened_. He took me out of the dungeon at the top of the tower at once.

"Lovely daughter, I have committed a dreadful crime of locking you in the morbid tower. All this time, we thought you spoke riddles. I knew Apollo had spoken his word through you, but his charm worked well, for no one believed you. Come, Cassandra, it is your time to lift your face up to all of Troy."

"I am honored to, Father. But first, where is Paris?"

Father's face turned grim at the sound of his son's name. "Paris is on the battlefield, like all his brothers. He challenged Menelaus to a duel. I wonder what has become of their single combat." I understood Father's anxiety. When was the last time Paris picked up a sword for battle?

I concentrated hard. Immediately, I had a vision. I saw Ares, the god of war, with his sister Eris riding their war-chariot. And Hades. That only meant one thing.

Menelaus had died.

"Father, Menelaus has been killed," I began slowly. Like an omen, the vision unraveled. "Agamemnon…he has threatened to kill Paris! He has secretly boarded Paris onto a ship to sail to Mycenae so that he will have Paris executed, unless we can pay him a ransom."

Father looked ill. "I will pay any price to ensure the safety of Paris' return.

"Do not worry, Father. Apollo will protect him."

Father nodded, and then began to begin his prayers.

**Apollo**

I came down from Olympus to greet Cassandra. She was waiting for me outside the Trojan Gates. I smacked my lips in satisfaction.

"Good job, my darling. Your words will gain you the freedom of Troy soon."

Cassandra didn't smile.

"What's the matter? Tell Apollo what is the matter."

"I suppose I shall."

"If it has anything to do with your brother…"

"They have taken Paris. Agamemnon took him away as his hostage. You promised, Lord Apollo, that in return for my kiss you would protect Troy."

"And I will, lovely Cassandra. Your brother is safe with me. If that bastard Agamemnon thinks he is better than I, well, we shall see about that."

"Farewell, Cassandra."

Now, to find Agamemnon and the poor unlucky prince…

**Achilles**

That Agamemnon is getting on my nerves again. Yesterday, a murder, and today a plan to kidnap the prince of Troy. I came here for glory. Glory. A simple word has a whole stream of meaning behind it. Glory comes at you like a gush of wind, a rush of seawater, a clash of thunder. It comes once in a lifetime, glory. Yet I have wasted my years trying to conquer it, to seize it between two hands as if it were a piece of sand.

I was a fool. A fool indeed. A fool doesn't ever falter. A fool doesn't believe in a tyrant, and then fights in search of something that is impossible to find.

I always thought that love was impossible. I never fully understood what it was to be in love. I heard that love meant that you would do anything for one person, and that you would be willing to give up anything if it meant that you two could be together. Was such a feeling impossible between man and woman? If there ever was such a feeling that existed, I knew I had never felt it. Not once.

Until I met Briseis.

Briseis, the Priestess of Apollo's Temple. As soon as my eyes laid eyes on her, I couldn't stop watching her. Her dark hair was as black as the night sky. My heart thumped animatedly.

I was in love.

So much in love, as a matter of fact, that the Fates felt sorry for me that they said they were considering reversing the prophecy. That if I fell in love and understood true love, they would give me another chance at glory. Another chance to defy Troy.

But I didn't want to defy any country. It was no use, killing people, taking that as glory and gaining something to your name. That wasn't enough. The glory wasn't enough to make me satisfied.

What I really wanted was Briseis. And I didn't want to die young. I wanted to live long enough to be with her, live with her, be with her for all eternity. But that couldn't be, for she is a mortal, I, a half-mortal, being able to reach a state of eternal living only after death. That is one of life's most vexing laws. But I knew that if I could, I would do anything and everything for my dear Briseis.


	10. Holding On

Chapter Ten

_Yes, I had loved Helen. But what of our love? What made our love so special that we had to be together? Only the Gods would know such a thing. What of us, what of me, Paris of Troy? I cannot say who I belonged to. For once, I had control over myself…who to love, what to do. Sometimes, one has to choose between what they want to do, and what they need to do. But that is also the hardest decision ever to make. _

**Apollo**

Paris' hands were bound with rope. He groaned in exhaustion and despair. I cursed Agamemnon who was probably drinking on the deck with his crew. Oh, what a merry little party. A prince is lying barely conscious below decks, with little food or sunlight and soon _he_ would be asleep from all the wine.

"Prince of Troy! Get up and look at me! Apollo's here, I'm here to help you."

I shook him when he didn't awake immediately. _Please, Paris, you can't be unconscious forever. _

A groan. I held my breath. He was alive. It wasn't too late to save him.

"Apollo," he gasped. He opened his eyes and closed them again. Perhaps it was too painful to even do that. His body was pale from being neglected from the sun for too long. Too pale for my standards. I stroked him with my sunstroke so that his skin turned bronze, a healthy color. It was no remedy for the disease. His forehead was drenched in sweat from a fever.

I scooped some saltwater from the ocean and I sprayed his face with it. He sputtered the water, gasped some more, and made an effort to sit up. He looked so frail, leaning against the wooden board.

That is when I saw. The cause of his groans. Paris tried to conceal it from me, but I saw the bruises on his arms. I saw the dried blood on his lip.

"Who did this to you? Tell me!"

"A-A-Agamemnon," Paris replied. As I thought. Who else would torture Paris for the sole purpose of making him suffer?

"Why did he wound you so?"

"He got drunk."

"How long have you been onboard?"

"Four days. I became ill on the first day. There was a draft coming in at nights, which didn't help my recovery much. But I feel better now. It must have been the saltwater."

"It's an ancient remedy. It always works. Come, I'll take you out of here."

"Many thanks, Apollo."

"You should be saying that to your sister."  
"Cassandra? She wishes me dead."

"No, Paris, she has changed. I think that she forgives you."

Perplexed, Paris drifted off into sleep. I carried him and flew to Troy, leaving him on his bed to rest. I trusted that Helen would nurse him back to health.

I knew that time was running short. Arrangements had been made for Helen to be sent back to Sparta, after Cassandra warned her father that their affair would bring destruction upon the city. Menelaus was dead. The Greeks were losing. It was all in Paris' hands to allow Troy to win this war. If he didn't, all my work would come to naught. The tree of my plans would bear no fruit. All he had to do was sacrifice his desire. His love. Helen. If he was noble, he would lift his own curse and redeem himself, otherwise he would experience unbearable heartbreak.

**Paris**

I do not understand. Helen is not speaking to me, to comfort me when I need her the most. Is it that it is finally time for us to say goodbye? Is our relationship falling apart before my very eyes? I remembered that Apollo had told me that I had a decision- to save my city at the cost of Helen.

But was that possible? Would I be strong enough to live without her?

Helen sat next to me for hours holding my hand. She was silent. She periodically traced the lines on my palm as if reading my destiny. She squeezed my hand.

"What is the matter, my sweet? Do tell me what is the matter." I asked uneasily. Helen replied, "Forgive me, Paris, for not speaking to you. I don't know what's the matter with me. I feel as if I've spent a hundred years with you- a hundred years of happiness. I just feel so guilty, so angry that so many deaths were caused because of me. Do you think, that if I wasn't as beautiful, the same amount of Greeks would be commanded to fight for me? If I wasn't as beautiful, would I have been married to Menelaus?"

"It is not your fault, Helen, that the Greeks declared war on us. They wanted to seize the land's riches, get gold; they used you as an excuse. But you deserve more than that. If you weren't beautiful, Menelaus wouldn't have cared for you…but if you weren't beautiful to the world, I would have still loved you. Because you _are_ my world."

I gazed at her lovingly. She gave me a sad smile, and I drifted off to sleep.

**Helen**

I do not know why Paris is not healing. I worryabout him. Why can'tI heal him? Is love not the greatest remedy of all that rids all sicknesses? I feel, after all this time, that weweren't meant to be together. As hard as it is, it is true. It is so hard for us tobe together, to love each other.

What is love? How canlove be described? For with ParisI truly felt in love for the first time. He looked beyond my face into my heart. He gave me everything he owned. Menelaus only offered lust. IloveParis. I cannot deny that. And he loves me. But something is missing. Some invisible bond that can make us be together. This war isbreaking us apart. No matter how hard we hold on,this time,we may beparted.


	11. Destiny

Chapter Eleven

_The Greeks were losing. My heart had been weakened by Briseis. This was my one chance to seal my fate, the way I wanted it to be. _

_Odysseus thought otherwise. _

_He was planning to siege the Walls of Troy once and for all._

**Achilles**

"**I **am in love," I said to Odysseus. "I truly think that I am in love."

I winced to hear what he had to say. He chuckled warmly. "Every man that has walked this earth must fall in love sometime in his life. I was wondering when Eros would pinch your heart with his magic potion. Finally it has happened to Achilles! Tell me now, who is it?"

I wasn't sure if I was to tell him this. If I told him that I loved a Trojan girl, what would he think?

"She is Briseis, priestess of the Temple of Troy. She serves Apollo, their patron god-"  
I paused. Odysseus turned nonchalant. Of course, I wouldn't have expected him to be happy for me, exactly. She was still the Greeks' enemy, although not mine.

"She is beautiful. I love her, Odysseus. Is there a problem to love a woman? Women, who are not involved in war at all…who stay pure and innocent and sweet their whole lives. The moment I saw her face, I knew it…I felt as if I were chastened, changed. The part of me that was missing was fulfilled. I felt weakened by her presence, but somehow I grew stronger."

"You remind me of my wife, Penelope." Odysseus looked down for a moment. "But do you think it is righteous, Achilles, to leave the Greek lines for her? You have fought alongside us for this long, why leave now?"

"I have chosen my fate. I won't let some oracle tell me a damn prophecy about my destiny. My destiny is my own; I alone can control it. I will not fight for the Greeks any longer." I sounded bitter, which shocked Odysseus.

"Be calm. I don't know what it is with you and destiny…but even before you were born, at your parents' wedding, there was chaos. Because of the golden apple, Paris chose Aphrodite as the fairest, which led to the kidnapping of Helen, and this war. You were bred on chaos, Achilles. That is how you shall live and that is how you are to die."

I shook my head. Odysseus grew stern. I recalled the histories he had told me on my journey to Aulis, yet, I didn't believe that my destiny was set out for me. My destiny was with Briseis.

"I desire peace. I do not want to spend the rest of my life fighting for glory. I am tired, Odysseus. I do not care if people speak my name for the next thousand years and all the ages of the world still to come. I want to rest now. Please, can you do me a favor?"

Odysseus didn't look up.

"Please, hear me. I want you to surrender. Retreat as soon as you can. I…I need you to do this for me."

"Traitor!"

"You will do it, won't you? I need for Briseis to be safe."  
"No. I will remain loyal to my country, unlike you."

"I fought under no flag in the first place! I don't even know who I am! That is why I have made the decision to become neutral. I stand on no one's side."

"You will rue the day you said that, Achilles. Why are you throwing away your fame? Your immortality? Do you have any idea how many people wish to live forever?"  
"That isn't important. I have Briseis. If you even dare to hurt her, I will kill you." Odysseus let out a sigh of exasperation. "I never knew that Achilles would ever say that."  
"Then you do not know me."

With that, Odysseus stomped, dumbfounded, to the Greek tents. I went the opposite way. I never looked back.

**Helen**

They say that my Paris is not doing better. It makes me anguished to see him suffer on his bed. I can do nothing to help him, which is worse. All the time he mutters nonsense gibberish under his breath as if he has fallen under a spell.

All morning I held his hand. When he woke up, he said,  
"Oenone…please, take me to Oenone."

"Who is it, sweetheart?"

"She can cure me. Take her to me, my love."

And so four men carried him on a wooden stretcher. I didn't know who Oenone was, nor did I care to know, as long as she made Paris feel better.

I hear that she is magician, a witch with magical powers of some sort. I hear that she has miraculous healing powers. Nymph. Doctor. Sorceress. She is a woman of mystery.


	12. Old Lovers

Chapter Twelve

Author's Note: I decided that this chapter would be fulfilling if it was told from third-person.

_Before Helen, there was Oenone. When I was but the adopted son of a shepherd, she loved me anyway. She didn't see me for my social status, but rather my mind…before Troy, I lived in Mount Ida, a place full of wonders, memories, and incidents long forgotten. When I found that I was the lost Prince of Troy, I forgot Oenone. But Oenone truly didn't forget me, for ten long years. _

_Although Troy forgot about the youngest prince, Priam believed that I was still alive._

_Love is funny. Once you fall in love, you cannot stop giving, no matter the circumstances. _

The four men, Paris' bodyguards, carried the prince's weak body on their straining shoulders. It was an honor to escort the prince, and the four men didn't complain of their burden. They sprinted quickly but steadily on light feet, for the Prince had fallen deeply ill, and it had been the Queen's wish that he may recover.

Despite his desperate situation, he still had hope of survival. This hope seemed to be keeping him alive. Although he never explained why, Paris had instructed the men to take him to Mount Ida, where Oenone lived. No one knew who she was- she was said to be a nymph with healing powers. No one questioned Paris about her, for he revealed very little about her, and they didn't wish to bother a sick patient.

Oenone, strange as she was, seemed to be the only solution in curing Paris. The men marched each step with strength; they were near their destination. It was a scorching day, and a river must be nearby to quench their thirst.

Polydeyus, one guard, insisted on resting.

"Let us rest awhile, my friends. I know that we have an important task before us, but even we cannot stand this heat. I do not think it is wise to be traveling any farther without a sip of water. We need it. So does Prince Paris."

The men agreed. Filling their cupped hands with refreshing water, they gave some to Paris, who drank the water thirstily.

"Thank you, gentlemen. Would you be so kind to help me out of this stretcher? We are here at last! Oenone lives in the cave on that hill over there. Do you see it? It is but ten feet away."

His guards rejected. "No, my prince, you have lost your strength. We cannot let you risk your health like this."

Nevertheless, Paris crawled feebly to the ground, where he lay helpless for a moment. Then, managing to lift his hand, cried out:

"Oenone, my love, I have come. It is I, Paris. I have returned to you."

The guards waited patiently to meet this strange nymph they had only heard about in legend.

There was no immediate answer. Paris let out a sigh of anxiety. "Oenone," he called once more.

Soon, mist began to form near the entrance of the dark, hollow cave. It was incredible, almost like magic. The guards watched in awe as a tall, pleasant woman stepped out from the white smoke.

Oenone.

"What is the matter?" She asked, her voice cool but warm. She looked over to Paris, covered her mouth in shock, and ran over to him. She seemed to be holding in a scream.

Regaining her composure, she told them, "I am Oenone, dweller of these hills. I know a way to cure Paris. But you must promise me something. Return to Troy. Leave him here with me overnight; you can take him tomorrow at dawn. Make sure that Helen doesn't find out. Place him in bed right before she wakes. I would like to spend some time with him."

"But, my lady…"

"I ask you a favor. For me."

Reluctantly, the four guards set the stretcher down onto the grass. The scorching heat of the sun was particularly strong; it was mid-summer. The once green grass was dried up. Dead, infertile. Ill, like the prince himself.

"I leave him in your care. Please cure him. Helen is so worried."

A long pause. The name Helen seemed to turn her eyes to hard stone.

"Helen? Helen, you say. Does she really know the pain one feels at the risk of a loved one? Tell her that he needs to stay for the night if she ever wants to see her husband again."

With a nod, the guards turned, making their way down from Mount Ida. Oenone brushed his curls with unflagging affection that still hadn't died out. She smiled at him faintly, for she felt awkward being so close to him in a long time.

She waited for a response. Paris turned his head to gaze at her. It was a long, deep, questioning gaze that made Oenone tremble.

"Oenone…I have missed you. Forgive me for having to come back to you in a state of illness." He stopped for breath. "It is only you who can cure me, for you were the first to love me. Only _you_ can save me. Please…you are so kind…" With that, he closed his eyes. He had passed out from the pain. Oenone carried the stretcher with some effort into her cave. There, she lay him down comfortably, in a bed of bird feather. She covered him with a blanket made of sheep wool from his homeland. He would be kept warm. She felt his head. He had a high fever. Although his bruises were healing, the scratches on his arms and legs were still evident. He looked beaten, abused. He coughed now and then; he had a cold.

Oenone quickly mashed herbs together into a thick paste to be used as medicine. She boiled it in hot water. With those herbs he would recover the next day, that is, if the timing was right. She dabbed his forehead with a cold rag with care. He mumbled nonsense in his sleep. Oenone hushed him, soothed him, sang to him lullabies like to a child. She urged him awake. Paris opened his eyes slowly, and his face was twisted with agony. Illness had made him gaunt. She blew on a spoonful of medicine, and made sure that he swallowed it. The remedy was strong; he was asleep within minutes.

Oenone, having watched him and taken care of him for many hours, fell asleep at his bedside.

Paris awoke, slightly refreshed. He felt better, his head felt lighter than before. His throat was still sore, but he could speak, call out her name.

"Oenone?" He said, seeing her asleep on top of him. He caressed her hair, for he remembered well the sweet scent of lavender in them.

Oenone arose. She pressed him tightly to her chest, for she was very glad to have him beside her again. "You are better, Paris. I was worried…Helen is worried. They'll take you back tomorrow morning," she added with a hint of sorrow. "There is something I need to tell you. Promise me that it'll be kept a secret."

"What is it, my sweet?"

"You…you are a father. Your daughter was born months after you left me." Tears began to well up in her hazelnut eyes.

"What?" Paris said in his raspy voice. "You- you never told me that you were-carrying my daughter. I am a bastard, aren't I; to leave you alone with a child to take care of alone. Oh, my poor Oenone." He kissed her on the lips. His kiss tasted of the aromatic herbs from the medicine, strong and savory. Piercing. "It's my fault. If only I hadn't lusted for Helen in the first place, none of this would have happened. The separation between us, this war. Those Greeks only want power, Oenone. Not Helen. They do not care for love. As long as they have their glory. I feel as if I cannot stop them from ruining my country. I…I love you. I'm sorry I left you." Paris cried then. Oenone wiped the tears with her soft hands. "It was a curse of Aphrodite. She rewarded me for giving her the golden apple, but instead she took you away from me."

"We cannot always decide our fates. But must you leave tomorrow, Paris? Stay here with me. Meet your daughter. I can't stand you leaving."

"I won't. Neither by my will or the Gods'," he whispered. He sat up and pulled her closer to him. He cradled her in his arms. He stroked her chestnut hair. He kissed her passionately on the lips. She kissed him back. Smiling one of his brief, charming smiles, Paris knew that everything was going to be all right. He lay on the bed with Oenone securing one hand over his chest. She pointed to where Andronea was sleeping. Their daughter. Paris marveled at the resemblance. He had so much that he owed to his family. He would dream of it now.

"I'm never leaving you again. I promise." Paris whispered one last time. As evening turned to night, they fell asleep in each other's arms.


	13. The Duel

Chapter Thirteen

Author's Note: I do not own anything that is related to Troy except the soundtrack, which I own under copyright laws.

Summary: Hector goes to find Paris in Oenone's cave, tells him that Priam has fallen ill, and only he and Paris are left to defend their city. Achilles and Hector have a showdown. Before Achilles goes to battle with Hector, he of course sees Briseis. Meanwhile, the Greeks are planning a siege…

**Paris**

My brother never scolds me. Only once, when I ran away from home at the age of thirteen, and I was lost in the woods at night, did he yell at me. Even in the toughest of times, Hector seemed to find his composure. Because Hector is so gentle beneath his rough exterior, he is a comfort to be around at times of loneliness. He is the tamer of horses, after all.

He found me in Oenone's cave. I was nearly well now; the fever was gone, and I had to only regain my strength.

"Hello, brother. It is good to see you. How are you feeling?" Hector asked, voice full of concern. "Father is very worried about you. He sent me here."

"I am recovering. Why couldn't Father come with you? How is he?"

Hector frowned. "He's not the same as he used to be, Paris. He's getting older. It would be too hard for him to come."

"I hope he's alright." I sat up on my bed.

Hector gave me a reassuring smile. "I'm sure he will be. He's a very strong man. But we need to fight this war for him."

"I know that."

"As soon as you are well enough, I need you to fight with me."

I gaped at him. Fight was not a word that I was friendly with, unlike Hector. He was born to be a warrior- I didn't have the skill to even train to become one. Hector knew this.

"You know that I am weak with the sword, brother. Besides, you have troops to back you up."

Hector sighed. "Paris, you have never tried in battle, so you do not know of your potential skill. I need another leader on the Trojan lines. I cannot do this alone." His tone was grave and pleading, so I couldn't refuse.

Reluctantly: "I will aid you."

Hector's face lit up. He embraced me tightly like he used to when we were little.

"Thank you. I have to be going; I wanted to stop by before the battle with Achilles."

"What?" I demanded. "But…he's indestructible!"

He sighed. "It's the only way to protect our people. I will fight my hardest. I've been dreaming of this day for weeks. I cannot falter. Honor the Gods, love your woman, and defend your country. Trojan code of honor."

"You don't have to do this. When Helen is sent back to Sparta, the Greeks will leave our shores for good."

"But Paris, they are here for power. And if I don't fight now, who will? If we don't fight, it means giving up our independence. If we lose, they will take over. I cannot let it happen. _I won't."_

"I would rather lose my freedom than lose you."

"I am glad that you love me, brother, but I will put my life at risk and save the lives of thousands."

I nodded and swallowed what he had said.

"You are the greatest man I've ever known. Hector, I'm proud to be your brother."

Hector smiled sadly. "Goodbye, Paris."

Strong as ever, he walked towards the mouth of the cave. Before he walked away, he turned once more, and, seeing my daughter look curiously at him, gave the all-knowing brotherly smile and marched to his fate.

"Who is he?" Andronea asked.

"He's your uncle." I answered. "Hector."

My heart made the same sound of the drums of battle.

**Achilles**

"Sorry, my love, it is time for me to go," I said, taking back my arm that Briseis had used as a pillow. Briseis groaned softly and watched me get up. I kissed her goodbye, careful not to grip her fragile hands too tightly.

I caught the scent of her hair. I was intoxicated. Knowing my destination, Briseis started to weep. It was painful to see her fair cheeks with salty tears.

"What is wrong?" I asked.

"I don't want either of you to get hurt! I love you and I can't let you do this…in the end, one of you is going to get killed. Is that what you want? Why are doing this?"

"Briseis," I began, shocked to listen to her words. "We fight to end this war, to spare you more blood that may be shed on your soil. I am doing this for _you_. If I die, at least you will be safe. You know that I would do anything to protect you, if it means my life."

She gulped. "And if you kill Hector first?"

"The Greeks will win. But you'll have me. The war will be over either way. It's give and take."

"And why can't you surrender?"

"I have a warrior's fate. I will fight till the end; we shall see what happens."

Incapable of doing anything, Briseis hid her face behind her hand and a river of tears. She was too ashamed to face me.

"Look at me, Briseis." I wiped her streaming tears with tender care, stroking her arm in hopes to soothe her.

I lifted her chin and whispered, "I'll never forget you."

I walked out the door, and with a final "I love you," I left her.

My two stallions were tied up at the Trojan Gates. I walked to the dirt field in front of the walls to meet my opponent.

Hector was waiting there, looking furious.

"You seduced my cousin," he spat. "What did you tell her? Tell me, great Achilles! Do your bribing skills match your fighting ability? I demand you to let her go. Leave her out of this!"

"I told her nothing; except that I loved her."

Hector looked ready to snicker.

"Love? You think that you are so powerful that you can speak of love so freely? Do not _lie_ to me."  
"_I love her!"_ I shouted desperately to make him believe me.

"Are you willing to fight for it!" Hector had run next to me in no time. He pulled my hair with one hand, tilting my neck back. He placed his sword within striking distance next to my throat. He could kill me before I could scream.

_Or so you think, Prince of Troy._

I roared in fury. I pushed him back so that Hector jumped. I charged and cut his wrist. With a small hiss, Hector dodged my next attack.

"You will return her to Troy at once!" he yelled. He then sliced my waist open. I moaned in pain. Clutching my stomach, I aimed for his heart.

"Do you know that she cries for us?"

I hadn't finished my sentence when Hector angrily punched my chest, leaving a nasty bruise.

"She doesn't want neither of us die…" I gasped.  
"What!" Hector roared.

I attempted to reach his heart, but Hector dodged it again and threw my sword out of my hand.

I struggled to get up. I could barely move.

_He missed my tendon. He doesn't know about it. I am still alive._

"You deserve to die." Hector spoke menacingly, the meanest I have ever heard him. "Should I show you mercy by quickening your death, or should I leave you hear until your body's blood spills out from your stomach?"

I got up, relieved. _He's not going to fight anymore!_

"Take me to Briseis." I ordered.

Hector stopped for breath.

A noise in the distance startled me. Hector looked in the same direction, stunned. He had also heard it.

My heart sank.  
The sound of fire burning.

The sound of gregarious war-cries.

The Greeks had come.


	14. The Last Battle

Chapter Fourteen

Note: I do not own anything related to Troy except for the soundtrack, which I own under copyright laws.

Summary: The final fight for Troy begins! Will Paris finally prove himself to be a son of Troy, and will Briseis ever forgive Hector for dueling her lover?

Hector's P.O.V.

I was about to kill Achilles. I really was. Why were the Gods delaying the one moment I had been dreaming of? Instead they have to send our enemies to us now, when with one strike I would have killed him. The only man that can stand up to Zeus himself. Truthfully, I had feared Achilles. But fear is sometimes good; it drives us to excel, to perform our deeds to our best. The Greeks were coming; there was no denying it. With every second that passed, they were getting closer.

How much time will they allow? I thought.

Giving Achilles one last look of pity and disgust, I released him from the sword. Was I doing the right thing? At least it would make Briseis happy. As long as he wasn't on the other side.

Achilles managed a weak smile- but it was grim. There would almost be no point in living anyway; he would die from his serious wounds. I marveled at his strength, however, because despite his failing body he stood up straight on his two feet, and marched towards his fate with the spirit of a soldier. This was the end. I could feel it. I was born a warrior, but I am a son, husband and father first.

Andromache. Father. I must go warn the others. Mouthing a brief prayer to Apollo, I raced on my horse back to the castle walls.

"Father!" I yelled, for I couldn't stand seeing my father sitting there to watch our city be pillaged. "You must hide underground immediately. The Greeks are advancing. They will be here as soon as darkness falls. We do not have much time."

"The Gods have sent a message to me. The Greeks have left a wooden horse as an offering to Poseidon for a safe journey back home. They have surrendered. We have wheeled the horse back into Troy. It is a symbol of peace, Hector."

"No, Father. I cannot let them kill you. Troy is under attack! The Gods even send ill omens! This is not the time to believe it. I have heard them coming! I must gather troops, or we do not stand a chance…"

"And the women and children?"

"Briseis will lead them underground with you. Hurry, Father."

"I am old and weary, Hector. You must take my place. I would like to enjoy the last moments of my city as it remains. I choose not to go, Hector."

Frustrated, I stormed out of the room and to Andromache.

She was in the bedchamber, looking worried. "What is it?"

"The Greeks are coming. I want you to take Astyanax, and Briseis along with you, along with as many women and children you can possibly gather. You will be safe underground. Remember what I showed you?"

"Yes."

I kissed her forehead and headed out the door, where Paris stood.

"Is that… blood you have on your hands?"

"Yes. I killed her. I killed Helen."

At the training camp, thankfully the soldiers were warming up. I told them that the Greeks were coming, and that they were the only hope of the city's survival. In a hurry I led them, Paris at my side. We were ready.

Achilles' P.O.V.

I couldn't believe it. I was free! I had to find Briseis- was she safe? I had to get her outof Troy. We would escape, find a deserted island somewhere, where no one would find us, and we would live in bliss…it seemed too good to be true, but I could still hope.

The Greeks came faster than I hoped for. Briseis was nowhere to be seen. Panicking, I searched the chaotic streets, but I couldn't find Briseis. Would we be separated forever in space and time?

"Briseis!" A name lost among so many others searching for their loved ones. No, I couldn't lose her. I called her name, hoping, praying that she would answer. The city was nearly in ruin…and…

There she was, struggling to escape the clutches of Agamemnon. I cursed his name, then plunged forward to kill him, when he fell suddenly, rocking the earth beneath him.

"Briseis!" She turned, crying at the sight of my wounds, but she was happy to see that I was safe. It soothed me just to see her face again. "I'll take you out of here." I lifted her in my arms, running…forever running from my fate…

"No!"

"Briseis, what…." I couldn't breathe before I could ask her what was wrong. My heart sank, for I knew all too well what had happened behind my back. A sharp pain hurt me at my tendon. Turning, I saw Paris, the cowardly Paris, smiling in triumph. Clutching her wrist to keep my balance, I realized that I was dying. Briseis cried, holding me in her arms. I ripped off the necklace that my mother had given me.

"Shhhh, my love, it'll be all right. Take it. My mother made this necklace. It is all yours. From my heart."

"No…"

"I love you, Briseis…whenever you look at the seashells, each one on that necklace, remember me…Briseis…hold me…"

Gasping now, I shivered. Then she gave me what could only exist between man and woman, what had always been since there was a thing called love- a kiss.

"You gave me peace in a lifetime of war."


	15. A New Beginning

Chapter Fifteen

Summary: Okay, get ready. This is the last chapter! (Not including the epilogue that'll follow.) As the city of Troy burns, its few civilians make it out alive; but not until they have said their final goodbyes to Priam, their beloved father, leader, and king, and Achilles and Helen.

**Achilles**

It gives me more pain than a sword piercing my skin to see Briseis cry. Although I am warm with fever and my conscience is barely an existence, a cool light washes over me, which even in this darkness allows me to see her. Quickly wiping her large teardrops with grimy hands, she rushes to cleanse and close the open wounds on my body with the dry hem of her skirt.

But it is too late; I can feel it. And still she held me, kneeling there and gazing with disbelief at the small wound at my heel that was slowly killing me. Yet there is always admiration.

Yes, perhaps admiration and love is what I will see during my last moments.

It didn't matter now that I was the son of Thetis. I couldn't avoid the inevitable end.

"Briseis, listen to me. We don't have much time." And she did, turned her head for me to hold onto her complexion ever after.

"The war is over. You will live in peace with your cousins and your people. Hector, he is a very good man. He loves you. Do not hold any enmity toward him. He had to do it. I understand it has to be done in war. But you, you will not be touched by the horrors of war, nor will you ever speak of it again. Lose me, for the rest of your people. Your future depends on it. You will survive, won't you? Promise me that."

In between sobs: "Yes…I p-promise."

"Perhaps I knew no peace before you. Even so, because of you the moments we shared are worth everything to me. Worth my whole lifetime. Do not think that our moments were too few. For you will remember me, and your heirs, for all the ages of the world. They will not know who we are, but they will treasure our names. They will still speak of a Helen and a Paris, a Briseis and an Achilles who loved each other. And started the most famous war in history. And you have an heir to remember me by." I clasped my shaking hand to her womb.

Her look of surprise turned into happiness. "I know it. I can see our prince. You will raise him in a new land that will flourish for many heirs to rule for generations to come. His name…is Niko."

I garnered my last strength. My breathing came in long, heavy gasps.

"I will see thee in Elysian. I shall be waiting. Remember, I am always with you. Farewell…" I could not speak any longer. I summoned one last breath.

"A life of war was my fate, not peace. But for you, my dear Briseis, it will be."

She kissed me, and amidst all the blood, death, tears and all the chaos around us, I saw only her. Only her, only breath, only her scent…

**Briseis**

As he closed his eyes his lips were smiling. I prayed to Apollo for counsel. And there he was, Cassandra clinging to his side, and I knew. It was he who had spoken through Achilles. Through the fires he led me, resolute and strong. Andromache, carrying Astyanax, was right behind him.

"Where is Helen?" I asked her. "Is she safe? And Hector? And Paris? Priam…"

She said, with only the strength herself could muster at his moment, "Priam was killed, and Helen. We are looking for Hector and Paris."

My heart sank. But there was no time to think of them, for we had our own lives to worry about.

With a new hope of carrying life inside me, I followed Apollo, our leader.

**Hector**

I saw my Trojans dying beside me, being slain like animals. It drove me mad.

"Where is Helen?" Agamemnon demanded. Paris, who was right beside me in the fight, answered proudly and mockingly: "Your girl is dead. I slew her. That's right, I killed her with my own hands. And who is to chase after me? It is already over."

With a roar, he charged toward me, and I gave him an impressive stab in the back. He fell backward like a board, and I shouted:

"It is done, fellow comrades! Go, sail safely back to Greece! For my work here is finished, and the war is officially over! Rejoice!"

The Greeks immediately followed my orders. They raced back to their ships. As for the remaining soldiers at our lines, they gave great cheers of happiness and relief. But Paris, my brother, he was still anxious.

"Brother, where is Father? We must go save him! What if they-" He couldn't bear to finish.

"Paris, Father is…"

"No!" Paris yelled, fighting back tears.

"It was his choice, Paris. We should respect his decision. He wanted to be next to the city he loved. He was an elderly man, he couldn't have stood a chance. Come, brother. Let us find Helen's body."

Paris didn't flinch at the weighty task in front of him. That's my brother. He now seemed to be thinking of Oenone and his daughter. I laughed, for we had victory. And I could still hope for everything to be all right.

**Paris**

My first thought was of Oenone and my daughter.

Oenone had to be unharmed; she was a nymph, after all. But what of our daughter? She had mortal blood in her…she was more vulnerable to harm.

Hector and I rode through the blazing city. We found Aeneas, our dearest cousin, exhausted from carrying his elderly father on his back. Our mother, Hecuba, seeming disoriented from all the heat from the fires that were eating our city.

"Mother. We have returned."

She kissed both of us like she used to, and I felt young again.

"Most of our family has perished. Your father, Helen…oh, Paris, get that wretched girl out of here. And where are Andromache and Briseis?"

Almost like an answer, there they appeared, in front of us, and they were happy to see us as well. There were only a few of us. But we were alive, which was all that mattered.

I gazed, and I saw Lord Apollo, giving me a little wink. So he had helped us again. I saluted him.

"Paris?" It was a voice I knew.

"Oenone! Are you all right?" I rushed to embrace her. She carried our daughter in her arms, and when I held her she was limp.

"Paris…she…"

"Oenone, don't tell me this…"

"She was murdered. She asked for you, and then she was stabbed…I tried to heal her, Paris, but it was too late..." I held her, our daughter lifeless between us.

"Stay here."

I ran into what was left of the palace, and I carried Helen's body and, with the help of Aeneas, Priam's body outside.

In the next few minutes we had Helen, Achilles, Priam and Andronea on funeral pyres. We all said prayers, standing in a small circle. We placed coins on their eyes for a safe journey to the Underworld. Helen, whose blood I still had on my hands, Achilles, whom I had killed, and Priam, his serene expression denying anything wrong in the world. Despite my guilt, I had a strange calmness within me from killing them, like purging myself of my evil fate.

Aeneas had the honor of lighting them all with a torch. And we set them to burn, and we wanted the wind to carry them in the morning.

We took an abandoned ship and set sail with plenty of food to last us for a week. We didn't belong here anymore. We would find a new place. The sword of Troy under my belt, we can do anything. We will still carry our glorious name, for the spirit of Father lives, and his blood runs in my veins.

Help us, O Gods.

I saw Briseis smiling contentedly to herself, clutching her stomach. I smiled. She was carrying inside her what only love could create. So she and Achilles had really loved each other. I regretted killing him. All killing had led to no end. We would have won anyway, with Helen gone. I hoped that she would forgive me. And Cassandra and Apollo were embracing each other, still together after all this time. Cassandra would go to be with him from now on. If only she would forgive me, too.

Mercy, O Gods.

And I held Oenone, hoping that, with all my heart, that she could give some of her pain to me. I couldn't bear to see her suffer.

Hear me, O Gods.

Give to us your blessing.

And so we sailed, Oenone clinging to me for warmth from the cool air of the new dawn. The breeze made ripple effects in the water, and everything was perfect. And I was glad that she would always find shelter within me, in my heart, and I, in her.

Thinking that I will be an uncle in just nine months time makes me shudder with excitement.


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Note: Like all things, nothing lasts forever. Well, there you have it, the epilogue. I feel proud of having compiled a Troy fic. In just fifteen chapters I have revisited my version of The Iliad, the classic story of love, grisly violence, honor, glory, immortality, sacred brotherhood and the true meaning of being a Trojan. (They weren't ever properly talked about) I hope that all of you who have reviewed have enjoyed my story. Thank you for all your encouraging reviews- they helped a lot and they are the reason I continued the story in the first place. It was a pleasure to write this. Although we all know the themes of the Iliad, I guess you really do not understand it until you write it yourself. So I have also learned a great deal. In all its unabridged splendor the Iliad remains a universal classic, and I think I have done it justice in my own words.

Oh yeah, and "love means never having to say you are sorry." From Love Story.

_Paris, Son of Rome, one year later._

I am now a Son of Rome. That is what we named this land, and we are the first people to tread upon her earth. The journey that we made to get away from Troy was just one year ago. Yet the memories of that fateful day remain, and always will remain in my heart. For it is the story that we will tell to our children, no matter how painful or horrific.

In a short time we have made progress. A handful of other Trojans traveled with us that day. They are working to build a temple for our dear Lord Apollo, and a palace for our King, Hector, where he will reside with Astyanax and Andromache. Astyanax, now two years old, is now starting to speak his first words. It is a pleasure to watch him grow every day. Hector hasn't changed- he is still my brother, the same Tamer of Horses. I am certain that he will handle his job with finesse and grace.

Achilles' son was born to Briseis six months ago, whom she named Nikolas just as Achilles wished. She is a wonderful mother. I think if it weren't for our little Niko, I would never have come to accept Achilles as a wholesome man.

Aeneas, the first among us to spot Rome, is hailed as the founder of this land. He is now the father of twin sons- Romulus and Remus, whom he found abandoned on Rome's shore. A she-wolf had taken them in, and she had grown to love them as her own, but Aeneas couldn't stand seeing them there. He simply went over gently, pretending to be their father by taking them into his arms. The wolf, although saddened to watch them part from her, understood that they had found a human to raise them. She allowed Aeneas to take them in; and she didn't leave a scratch on him. Aeneas always had a way for wild animals; he always had wildness about him.

Today is the first day of May. The days are getting warmer, and we are all content. Oenone and I watched Briseis and Aeneas watching over not only their own children but Astyanax as well. He was in such a hurry to walk. There they were, laughing and playing with Astyanax. So happy.

And I was guilty of not joining them.

Would I ever be able to laugh again? After losing my daughter, after Oenone had blamed herself for Andronea's death. After killing Niko's father, and after losing my father. Although I now despised Helen, I knew that for ten years I had loved her fiercely. And I know it is madness, sickness from that ferocity that drove me to kill her that night. I wondered if the murders of my enemies were paid by the deaths of my loved ones. For the rest of my life, would I have to feel guilt, for it is my fault that Niko will have to grow up without a father? I was made to feel his pain.

Even in wartime, murder is a crime.

What is ironic is that I murdered Helen, but my daughter died instead. Oenone once said that she would rather die in her place. But I cannot afford to lose her. Never. Somehow, our daughter's passing has brought us closer together. I put an arm around her now, not out of cold, but a sudden feeling of longing, of emptiness…

"You should go over there," she suggested.

"But I want to stay here with you," I replied, holding her to my chest.

And for a few moments, I am mesmerized, overcome with love. Oenone buried her face in my tunic, and I lifted her face.

She was beautiful.

I see in her face the same face from twelve years ago. Age hasn't hidden her dark beauty. I see in her eyes love, _for only me_, and I know this is the reason why I fell in love with her all those years ago.

"I miss her," she said, rubbing the scars on my chest tenderly.

"So do I. I'm sorry."

Oenone doesn't accept my apology, so I said that I loved her. She smiled, and I knew that I was forgiven. For all things.

I look over to my cousins once more, and I hope that they have forgiven me. For being the curse of the family for this long. But now I feel different, refreshed. I was cursed in the name of fire, and fire was the only thing that could break the anathema.

No matter what, fire will always be a part of me. Oenone will always be there, to make sure the fire doesn't get out of control. My inner flame will burn for only her. Some say that the world will end in fire. Some say in ice. For me, fire was a symbol of death and new life, the many ironies of life.

There, up in the heavens, in the bright fireball of sun, Lord Apollo and Aphrodite are watching over me. At Apollo's side, Cassandra smiles radiantly, her shyness overcome by determination. I never hated Cassandra. And I never will. She is up there with Apollo now, and our Phoebus will protect her for all eternity. Apollo gives me a wink, and I begin a short prayer:

_Have them accept me as a brother, cousin, husband and son. As Paris. Just Paris._

And now I hear Priam's voice, the great Priam, calling to me in the wind.

_I always accepted you. You were always my son. Remember, you will always be the Prince of Troy…_

Rome. Even though I am a Roman now, I will always be who I always was.

Apollo is gazing at me, and I hear him. _You are a father as well. _In that all-knowing smile, he explains everything. I wonder if Oenone knows.

At last, I see Achilles, nodding at the sight of his son. He has achieved immortality; his wishes have been fulfilled.

_The Gods envy us. They envy us because we are mortal. We are more beautiful because we are doomed, because every moment might be our last. We will never be here again._

And yet we can still become immortal.

Here, looking over Rome's harbor, I hear voices of the dead. I know that I am not insane. But they are sending me messages so that I can find myself. Hopefully, one day I will forgive myself; find redemption. I am almost there. With a woman like Oenone by my side, I can do anything.

Helen died so that I could appreciate her more, so that I could see true beauty. But I know that finding myself and accepting who I am is a journey I must embark alone. I can be greater than I ever thought possible.

Oenone will one day find the strength to face the world again. With another child coming, she needs to be strong. And I? I will soon join my family in laughter. Let the Gods envy us humans. We will meet our short, glorious lives willingly, with each new sunrise. With the Gods to watch over us, and those who have left this world to watch down to us from the soaring heavens.

After all the ages of the world have passed, our names will remain. Let them say I loved Helen. Let them say I became immortal after my death, with people remembering me as the Lover. But I will spend my time on Earth with Oenone, forever.

Nothing lasts forever.

Note: Romulus and Remus were Aeneas' real sons. In my story, he adopts them, but in myth, they were his biological sons who were later found by a she-wolf and raised by it. Romulus triumphed over Remus and became ruler and founder of Rome. All historical misinterpretations are my mistake.


End file.
